~ Through All Time ~

by

Judi Phillips

It was a perfect summer day. The sun was shining in the blue canopy of sky. A gentle breeze ruffled the surface of Ricing Lake and the water sparkled as if it had trapped the Star People in its depths.

Soaring Hawk let the canoe glide to a stop some distance from the shore.]

Rylla took a grip on the paddle as if she were about to wring the life out of a snake and dug it into the water. The next thing Soaring Hawk knew, water showered over him, the drops chilled points on his sun-heated skin.

"You'd better show her how to hold a paddle, Soaring Hawk." Running Bear's deep voice floated over the water.

  Soaring Hawk looked over his shoulder. Everyone had gathered along the water's edge. He groaned and gritted his teeth. There was no escaping now. He and Rylla would be entertaining the whole village.

  "You must hold the paddle correctly--like this." Rylla looked over her shoulder, and Soaring Hawk demonstrated, placing his right hand over the slightly wider top and wrapping the fingers of his left hand around the shank of the paddle.

  He watched as she corrected her grip.

  "That looks good," encouraged Crow Wing from the shore. Soaring Hawk could hear the grin in his voice but ignored him, stoically refusing to show any annoyance.

  Grasping the paddle correctly now, Rylla dug into the water again. By the way she leaned into it, he could tell she was seething. She made several deep strokes. The canoe immediately swung to the left, turning until it pointed back toward shore.

  "You'd better tell her she can't make a Circle with one canoe all by herself."

  "Soaring Hawk, you'd better steer that thing."

  "That's what you're sitting in back for."

  Soaring Hawk tightened his lips, unwilling to respond to these helpful suggestions from the audience lining the shore. He steadfastly ignored Rylla's shoulders, shaking in silent mirth in front of him. With a couple of strokes, he aimed them back toward the middle. Now he would not have to look at his tormentors.

  "Slide the blade into the water, then twist it and pull straight back. Watch me."

  Rylla turned on her seat, a smile still curving her lips and lingering in her eyes, and watched as he made several strokes. Turning back, she copied his movements, and they moved forward in a reasonably straight line. Perhaps there is hope she can learn after all.

  "That's right," Running Bear encouraged from the shore.

  With each stroke, Rylla became more adept. Without warning, on the next stroke, the paddle slipped out of her hand.

  "Don't reach . . ."

  He never finished the sentence. One moment he was sitting in the canoe and the next he was in the water, thrashing his way to the top, blowing the water from his nose and mouth. He broke the surface, tossing his wet hair out of his face, looking for Rylla. Terror clawed at his throat for a moment. He had never thought to ask her if she could swim.

  He expelled his pent-up breath in relief when he saw her pop up not far away, sputtering and shaking her head. With a few powerful strokes, he was beside her, reaching for her, grasping one arm to make sure she stayed afloat.

  "Are you all right?" Fear had turned his voice rusty.

  "I'm fine," Rylla sputtered through the water cascading down her face. She peered through her hair, plastered to her forehead. "What happened?"

  "You tipped the canoe over." Soaring Hawk still held on to her as they treaded water, unwilling to risk letting her go yet.

  "I don't know how it happened." Rylla looked at him and, for a moment, Soaring Hawk drowned in her eyes.

  "You better get that canoe, Soaring Hawk," came another suggestion from the shore.

  Abruptly pulled from the lake-blue depths of Rylla's eyes, Soaring Hawk looked around and saw the canoe, riding low in the water, floating away.

  "Can you swim?" Soaring Hawk wanted reassurance from Rylla.

  "Yes. What do we do now?"

  "We have to get in and get back to shore. I'll get the paddles."

    Rylla watched as Soaring Hawk struck out to chase down the paddles, slowly floating away from the canoe, his arms a flash of brown in the churning water. She swam over to the canoe, grabbed onto the edge and tried pushing it toward Soaring Hawk, but it was sluggish from the water awash in the bottom.

  Soaring Hawk returned with the paddles and hoisted them over the edge into the canoe.

  "How in the world are we going to get back in? I don't think you can toss me in like a paddle."

  Soaring Hawk grinned at the idea, and his hidden dimples flashed into sight. "No. It will take cooperation. Will you do as I say?"

  Rylla couldn't resist the combination of dimples and nicely asked request. "Yes. What do I need to do?"

  "You need to hang on to this side while I climb in from the other."

  "That sounds easy enough."

  Soaring Hawk nodded in agreement. He swam to the other side of the canoe, grasped the edge and asked, "Ready?"

  "Yes." Rylla was unprepared for the lurch on the canoe as Soaring Hawk levered himself up. Even with her weight as a counterbalance, the canoe bobbed up out of the water, before the edge on Soaring Hawk's side dipped below the surface of the lake, taking more water aboard. He slid over the side and into the canoe.

  "Hang on for a little more. I have to get some of this water out before you get in." He began bailing water over the side, using a small birch bark bucket attached to the canoe with a string of braided nettle fiber.

  Rylla decided she could have probably swum back to shore in the time it took Soaring Hawk to get enough water out of the canoe.

  "You can get in now." He moved to the side of the canoe.

  Soaring Hawk had made it look easy getting into the wretched canoe. There was no leverage point in water, nothing to thrust against. In her first attempt, Rylla barely got her neck above the edge before sinking back down. The second time, with much kicking and thrashing, she got about chest high.

  "The third time never fails," she mumbled to herself. With her legs flailing and using every ounce of strength she possessed in her upper body, she managed to slither over the side of the canoe. She lay gasping in the bottom, feeling like a landed fish. Cheers went up from the shore.

  She carefully moved into a sitting position, not wanting to risk tipping the canoe. She looked at Soaring Hawk and he was grinning at her, dimples twinkling on each side of his chiseled lips. "If I wasn't afraid I'd capsize this stupid thing again, I'd come over there and make you sorry for that grin on your face," she threatened, fighting the grin that was quivering to escape. "Even then, it might be worth it."

  He laughed outright, a lusty expression of his amusement.

  His laughter was infectious, and she surrendered the fight to remain stern and joined him. She nodded toward the shore. "We must have been a sight."

  They paddled the unwieldy canoe, sluggish from the water sloshing in the bottom, back to shore. Soaring Hawk and Rylla endured the good-natured teasing everyone offered before the people returned to the tasks they had interrupted.

  "We certainly put on a good show for them," said Rylla when they were alone on the shore.

  "I suspect it is a story that will be retold many times."

  Soaring Hawk's fear that Rylla might not be able to swim had loosened the tight control he usually exerted over his emotions. He was awash with feelings, a confusing array of apprehension, exhilaration, and desire.

  He let his eyes roam over Rylla. Her tunic, wet from their unexpected venture into the lake, clung to her, outlining every curve that it hid. Sparkling drops of water dappled her skin. His loins felt hot and heavy from the rush of heated blood.

  His gaze wandered back to her face. Huge blue eyes stared up at him; pale skin, soft as the petal of a flower, enticed his caress; rosy lips, slightly parted, invited kisses. She was so beautiful, so different in looks and spirit, from any other woman he had known.

  He had to quell his immediate impulse to slide her tunic up, revealing the curve of her hip, the dip of her waist, the lush mounds of her breasts. He wanted to run his tongue over her nipples, already pebble hard from the cold water.

  Soaring Hawk lifted his hand and traced the line of her jaw from ear to chin with one finger before he turned away. "I need . . . to . . . finish bailing out the canoe." He walked back to the canoe, letting the lake water cool the fire in his blood.

  He needed to put some distance between them before he forgot himself. It had been a long time since passion had stirred him in this way. He had been very careful to keep a tight control over his feelings, unwilling to risk the anguish of losing someone he loved. He did not want to suffer that kind of pain again, ever.

  Rylla stood where Soaring Hawk had left her, rooted to the spot, her breath trapped. A burning trail of fire remained where his finger had grazed her face. She thought she might never breathe again until her lungs forced her to inhale a ragged breath.